Anyone caring to go to Australia, I highly recommend it. I've subdued the locals, drank all their beer and renamed their streets. Its safe there now, just don't mention me by name. You don't want a stranger to wet themselves, its embarrasing and gross, especially if your hand is in their pants. Also on my list of gross things is the spider that bit my wang. Digging a trench and suddenly I realize, perched upon my pecker, pincers protruding, was a nice big red spider stabbing away like a wee little Loraine Bobbit. The spider was obviously a card carrying bull dike bent on removing man meat from the earth. Stupid spider, you forgot to be poisonous. I forgot not to panic. Try explaining to two strangers who are helping you dig a trench why your furisouly slapping at your crotch and then constantly checking in your pants for signs of swelling. Hey buddy, does this look swollen? Don't look at me like that asshole, I may be dieing! Maybe he thought my balls had just dropped and I was getting my first erection. We FINALLY left the quaint and freakishly hot town of Broome after an excellent bout of fishing and enjoying life at a wonderful couple named Steve and Justine's house. They are my hero's. I worked a day on a charter boat and after contracting syphalis of the ear (horribly painful, and leaky) I seemed to have lost my immunity to seasickness, cause I Puked a lot. A lot lot. Celina worked as a maid at some resort and I dug a trench and raked some leaves. As you can imagine it was a fairly uneventful month but the millions of bats I saw over the bay one night (3 to 4 feet wide fruit bats and literally a million) and the fishing made it very worth it. Also the 1300 profit we made selling our Pajero. Anyway after that and some Barramundi fishing in steves boat we decided we'd catch the plane we payed for and go to Perth. Mostly because we had payed for another flight to New Zealand from Perth. The wonderful Paxman family (world famous spearsfishermen) took us in but because of my ear infection we couldnt go spearfishing...that made me sad in a 'punch a kitten in the stomach' kind of way. Perth was uneventuful, had some down time and said goodbye to Perth's great beaches. Goodbye Aus, I'll be back, and mad as hell...for some reason.

Our flight to New Zealand went well, I didn't sleep much as I was too excited drawing up battle plans for the invasion and drinking free beers. As our plane touched down I gathered up my gear and stepped off the plane. The island shuddered.Ancient Maori spirits wailed and fled from my advance up the pedway with an arrogant swagger and fire in my eyes. Not literally fire but, you know, intensity. I steeled myself as I stepped into the airport, a family of small asians threw themselves from the railing out of pure shock. The security gaurds wet their pants and threw there guns in the fountain, luckily only one had a strangers hand in his pants. Gross. My syphalitic ear throbbed as the song Hydra's Teeth screamed into it from my Ipod. Pain! Sorrow! Agony! Defeat! The locals trembled and shook. I farted and a large German woman in a moo-moo burst into flame. "KIA ORA! SAY HAERA RA TO YOUR MANA!" I screamed. It might mean 'say goodbye to your authority' in Maori but may have been a recipe for buntcake. Then, I got a sandwich. Oh, and the lovely Celina was there too. She's nice.

Aucklands nice, 25 degrees sunny and friendly, beautiful trees and old buildings. We booked into the Fat Camel hostel, also nice but they have too much beer. All see what I can do about that. Tui is great beer, fuel. We also bought a new vehicle, a 1988 Nissan Safari, sorta like a landcruiser without the britishness. Speaking of which I should pick that up soon.

Hei Konei Ra

For what little it means this travel diary is dedicated to Eric Lahoda, rest in peace good friend, the rockin the gnar gnar won't be the same without you.